


Blood Types

by Vera_dAuriac



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blood As Lube, Blood Kink, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Episode Tag, F/M, Gags, Hate Sex, Kink Meme, Knifeplay, Outdoor Sex, S4 Ep 5, Vaginal Sex, incestuous thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:43:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_dAuriac/pseuds/Vera_dAuriac
Summary: Bellamy can't stand to stay and watch Arkadia burn. What happens when he gets into the woods is even more interesting.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this to every dirty, middle-aged woman in The 100 fandom. God bless us, one and all.
> 
> Oh, don't own these folks, etc.

**By Vera d'Auriac**

It felt so right to hold O as she cried. Bellamy had missed comforting his sister. From the moment she was born for the next sixteen years, her pains had been his to heal. But when he had sided with Pike and Lincoln had died, that had changed everything between them. _Always able to find some way to fuck things up, aren’t you Blake?_ Yet, here and now, as they watched Arkadia burn, mankind’s last hope and what had been his sister’s prison, he could help her again.

Until she pushed him away.

“Go away, Bellamy,” Octavia said with a shove on his chest. “You’ve come back, but too late as always.” She struggled to her feet, and he wanted to reach out and steady her, but he knew that would only make it worse. Still, when she swayed, he jumped up to catch her. She didn’t need him, though. Out of the smoky night, Jasper appeared at her side, and he led her off, away from the fire. All the way to the shadows, he watched her fading silhouette, wishing the same thing he had all of her life—that he could do more for her.

Bellamy stood and looked around, to see if anyone needed him. Clarke and Kane huddled together about twenty feet away, but his presence would be unnecessary. Monty was helping Niylah and a moment later Harper had him in a tight embrace. Miller’s father and his men were putting Ilian in restraints. No one in Arkadia needed him. _I might as well not be here._ Roan scowled at him when he and Bellamy passed, the King heading for Clarke and Kane, Bellamy going for the exit. _No. I’m really not needed here at all._

With Arkadia so brightly ablaze, the sharp contrast between the camp and the rest of the world was even more shocking than usual. One moment, he had been in the painful glare of the fire, and the next the darkness of night swallowed him. A few more awkward, mechanical strides after, and he reached the tree line. Anyone from Trikru might be nearby, all of whom rightfully hated him, but he didn’t care what happened to himself out here. Trikru or some wild animal could have him. And he knew there were other threats, like the Azgeda warriors who had followed Roan.

“So what are you doing out here, Bellamy Blake?”

Azgeda, like Echo. Son of a bitch. 

“Not looking to start anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Bellamy tried to keep walking, but Echo stepped out from behind a broad oak tree, directly in his path. He clenched his jaw and tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths in through his nose, but when he looked in her eyes, still rimmed in the last of her war makeup, he wished he still had the chains he’d worn earlier so he could fulfill his threat to strangle her with them. Granted, he’d said he would only do that if Octavia were dead, but the way she treated him, Octavia felt dead to his soul, estranged in a way that would never be righted. Nothing he did to Echo would change his relationship with his sister, but it might make him feel a hell of a lot better if he hurt her.

She edged closer so that their bodies touched. “You look like a man thinking about pain.”

“I am.”

“Whose pain?” she asked, so close he felt her breath on his face.

“Yours.”

“Really? Looks to me more like you’re thinking about your own.”

His mouth had gone dry and he licked his lips, hoping to moisten them, but to no effect. _Is that her fault? Can I just blame all of this on her? Take out all of my rage and hate—and pain—on her?_ “I’m pretty sure I’m thinking about yours. You did try to kill my sister, or did you forget? Because I didn’t.”

“You’re…close with your sister, aren’t you?” Echo asked, cocking her head to the side, which somehow brought her face even closer to his. If he tried to lick his lips now, he’d just as likely get hers instead. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Don’t Grounders care about their family?”

Echo snorted. “Oh, we care, just not like that.”

Bellamy stepped into her, using his body to force her back against the tree. “You better just shut up.”

But she just laughed at his threats. _Why wouldn’t she? She was raised to kill people with her bare hands, and her hands wouldn’t be bare. Unlike you, who stormed out of Arkadia unarmed, she has at least half a dozen knives strapped to her, plus her bow. She’d kill you and not even start breathing heavy. You should have tried to learn something from O._

“I thought Skaikru was all about breeding, or whatever. Even illiterate Azgeda know you don’t fuck your own sister.”

“Shut up!” he said, pressing her harder against the tree. “Don’t talk about my sister that way.”

Echo pushed back, but only with her hips. _Fuck!_ He was hard and growing harder, and now she knew it. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

“I don’t think I’m saying as much about your sister as I’m saying something about you, Bellamy Blake, hero of the Sky People. How long have you wanted to fuck your little sister?”

Bellamy pushed her shoulders flush to the tree. “Wanting to fuck you does not mean I want to fuck my sister.”

She grabbed his cock tight in her right hand, and God help him, he moaned, even though there was nothing he wanted to do less. “Whatever you say. But if you weren’t interested in your sister, you could have picked a woman, even a Grounder woman, who was less like her than me.”

“I didn’t pick you,” he said, gripping her shoulders so tightly his fingers ached. “I fucking hate you for everything you’ve done.”

“Hating me has nothing to do with whether or not you want to fuck me. So, are you going to kiss me or not?”

“Not.”

“Your choice.” Echo leaned her head forward and bit his lower lip, and not a gentle lover’s nip, but with malice. When she squeezed his now fully erect cock, he lost all sense.

She dropped her bow to the ground, and he wriggled out of his jacket, but after that, he could barely say what happened. Their hands were all over each other, their mouths locked together. He couldn’t understand what in the hell she was wearing—a deerskin vest over something with belts and pieces of metal every fucking where. He pulled at every lace and buckle he found, willing himself to get her undressed enough so he could pound her up against this tree. Maybe he would hurt her, and that would make it even better. Maybe she would hurt him, and that would make it perfect. 

“So why are you out here?” she panted when they had to break apart so he could get some damned strap over her head. “Your home burns. Don’t you want to be with your people? With your sister?”

“Stop talking about my sister.” He shoved his hand in her pants, which he still couldn’t get over her damned hips. He found her dripping, and just as ready for him as he was for her. _And she acts like I’m the only one who wants this._  
  
“I think you should stop talking altogether.” And like all Grounders, somehow she magically produced a gag from her pocket and shoved it into Bellamy’s mouth before he could dream of protesting. With a jerk, she tied it at the back of his head, pulling his hair. He gave her an angry grunt, but all he got from her in return was a wholly unsympathetic smirk. On top of that, she spun him around and pushed him against the tree. In the maneuver, his hand came out of her pants. She swore in her own language, snapped something from around her thigh, and then shoved his hand back between her now far more accessible legs. At which point, he stopped caring about the gag.

She licked his neck and said, “I bet you’ve liked your sister since she first bled. Started to look like a woman.”

Bellamy protested inarticulately through the gag, but he couldn’t fight her when her hand slipped under his cock, behind the rest of him, and touched him almost gently. Of course, she laughed. “You don’t like to admit it, but you always looked at her a little longer than you knew you should. And now that you know she could kill you, know that her body is so tight and honed, you want her more than ever. But you’re just going to have to settle for me because she hates you, almost as much as you hate yourself.”

He threw his head back and closed his eyes, her words and her touch too much for him to process. He loved O. His job was to protect her. He would never lay a finger on her, not even if she wanted him to. _And she never will_.

“Oh, I’ve got you thinking again, don’t I?” Echo laughed. She stopped to suck hard on his neck, and he shoved two fingers in her so hard her entire body jerked. “Do you need some pain to forget about your worries? Is that what you need Bellamy Blake?” 

He wished he didn’t have the stupid gag in so he could scream: “Yes! Make me forget O and Arkadia and the end of the goddamn world. Make me feel so fucking much I’ll never think again.”

But Echo had read his mind since he’d first found her out here, and she didn’t stop now. She pulled one of those half dozen knives he knew she carried from a belt she then dropped to the ground. It was a short blade, no more than four inches, with a slight curve at the end and an unmistakable point. She pulled the neck of his shirt down so far he thought for sure it would tear, but she stopped just in time. She slowly cut a two-inch opening, not deep, but unmistakable. _If she still had a hand on my cock, I’d be coming all over it._

Then she bent her head and deliberately licked from the bottom of the cut to the top. The pain of the cut had been such a glorious release, but he’d never imagined her putting her mouth to it, which she did now more insistently. It had all been so unexpected, he couldn't decide what had his cock throbbing more—the mere thought of his blood sliding over her tongue or the feeling of her lips on his chest sucking his wound. He wished the gag were out so he could kiss her and taste it—his blood in her mouth.

But she did even more than that. Echo now only wore a shirt with an open neck, and she pulled it aside and made a matching cut at the top curve of her left breast. He felt her get wetter when she made the cut, and he could only watch the blood seep slowly over her pale skin in the moon and starlight filtering through the tree. He wanted so much more, but until she removed the gag, he was helpless. 

She swore in Trigedasleng. “Your hands are free, you stupid bastard. You realize you could take that gag out yourself.”

He ripped the gag free, and grabbed her, once more forcing her against the tree. He bent his head to her breast and sucked the blood she offered him. It was finally her turn to moan, to be unable to hide her lust. And while Bellamy lapped at the wound, savored the metallic tang, he pulled at more straps and buckles, freeing the kneepad from her left leg, but unable to quite reach her boot. _Fuck this. Just fuck it._ He shoved her pants down as far as they would go, which turned out to almost be to her knees. Then he backed her up to the tree, moved his body as close as he could, and shoved in. 

It wasn’t a very satisfying angle. He wanted her more, to be inside her farther, but he couldn’t manage it with her damned pants on. “Fuck! Oh fuck, Bellamy. This fucking sucks.” She growled with frustration and slid her left leg up. It didn’t really help the angle enough, but he wasn’t going to stop her. Especially when she then shouted, and sounded much more triumphant. 

She was the one who did stop then. She grinned viciously and then wrapped her foot behind his leg. With a yank, she toppled him to the ground, not giving him so much as a warning or a supporting hand to soften his landing. Before he could right himself, Echo stepped on his shoulder, forcing his back to the ground. She ripped off her left boot and slipped out of the corresponding pant leg. Her right boot, metal kneepad, and all the rest were all still in place, but her left leg was free. She smirked and straddled him, her loose pant leg brushing across his stomach, and she settled herself on top of him.

In felt amazing to be back inside her, but while he had loved the pain of her cut—needed it, in fact—his bare ass on the forest floor was not exciting. His grimace must have tipped her off, because she squatted so her weight was not on him, and lifted his hips and slid her deerskin vest under him. The fur was almost too smooth, but now he was in her, deeply in her, and nothing would stop them. 

“Oh, fuck, you bastard, fuck me harder!” she commanded with her head flung back.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down hard as he thrust up. She screamed and reached behind herself to fondle him. It was now his turn to moan, but he did everything to hold her tight and continue thrusting up and into her.

“Touch me,” she ordered. “I’m so fucking close. Touch me.”

Bellamy didn’t want to give up his grip on either of her solid, warm hips, but he also couldn’t ignore what she asked. So he slipped his right hand, still sticky with her wetness, between their bodies and sought out her clit. She hummed pleasantly when he got there. _No. This doesn’t get to be just pleasant for her_. His anger rising, Bellamy let go of her other hip and squeezed the cut on her chest. She gasped and scowled at him, but he didn’t care. _She tried to kill O. She thought she had. Fuck her_. The wound began to bleed more than it had since she had first cut herself and he smeared two of his fingers around in it while he never stopped moving with her, never paused his finger sliding over her.

Damp with her blood, Bellamy took his left hand away from Echo’s chest and reached behind her. With no other warning, he pushed both fingers in her ass. She screamed and gasped and lost her rhythm, not finding it again until she started pounding on his chest hard enough he thought he would bruise, but they kept moving together, raggedly, but inexorably, toward their climaxes. 

Echo came first, her head thrown back, a deep growl emanating from her throat. The moon sneaked through the branches of the trees to cut a thin line of light diagonally across her chest, illuminating her cut. Bellamy’s cock twitched in her convulsing body and his eyes drank in the sight, and a moment after her, he was coming as well. He hadn’t even quite finished when she fell sweating, bloody, and exhausted atop him.

Bellamy thought he should say something, not even necessarily something nice, but something. Echo didn’t seem to feel any similar compulsion, just lying on him gasping and working to catch her breath. Then something rustled nearby, and Bellamy jerked his head toward the noise, suddenly wondering if this entire seduction had been an elaborate scheme to make him vulnerable to the endless number of people who hated him. 

Echo chuckled. “It was a rabbit, ignorant Skaikru.” She rolled off him, not even being careful of the fact he was still inside her. “If I wanted you dead, I would have just put a knife in your throat.”

“So is _this_ what you wanted?”

“War between Azgeda and Skaikru nearly started today and my king almost got assassinated. I guess I just wanted to feel alive.” She stood and pulled back on her left pant leg.

“I guess having your home destroyed and finding out your sister isn’t really dead has its effects on people, too.”

“Yes,” Echo laughed, pulling her deerskin from under him and gathering her other clothes and weapons. “Let’s not forget your sister.”

“You know what? Fuck you, Echo.”

“Yes. Sometime again soon, I hope.” She smiled down at him, still lying on the forest floor with his pants around his ankles, and walked off.


End file.
